Newkirk limped into the camp's office. The swarthy Lebanese corporal nodded to him. "The doctors said you could lend me your phone, mate."

"Sure thing. You OK, sir?"

"Fine. And I'm no sir. Name's Newkirk."

"I'm Klinger."

They shook hands. "Who are you calling?" Klinger asked.

"My employer." Newkirk took the chair offered. "While the call goes through, what's my doc really like? He seems decent."

"BJ? You bet. BJ is a great guy. Little nuts sometimes but that's nothing new."

"He hangs out with Pierce?"

"That's how you find them. If you want Hawkeye, just look for BJ and vice versa. Say, are you really friends with that Major General?"

"The gov'nor and I go back a long ways."

"Can he take me with him? I'd be a great aide. And it's not forever, just until we get to the States."

"Sorry, mate. Hogan's my friend but I can't make him do anything."

Klinger sighed dramatically. "Worth a shot." He shouldered a large bag of mail. "See you around."

"All right. Thanks."

"Anytime."

Hogan looked at BJ. "Is he ill?"

"He's rundown, wore out." BJ leaned against the wall. "His body is going to start reacting seriously. His joints are already showing signs of arthitis. Was he in a train accident?"

"No, not that I know of. Why?"

"His body. There's a tremendous amount of damage."

Hogan studied BJ directly in the eyes. "What should he do?"

"He should find an easier job," BJ sighed. "Or stop running into battle. At the very least, he needs a long break to allow his body time to recover, to gain weight and relax."

"And what does he do, General? What reporter suffers these kind of injuries?" Hawkeye looked at Hogan.

"Newkirk reports everything." Hogan rubbed his chin. "I appreciate your help. Both of you."

BJ looked at Hogan. "General, just so you know, I told him this. He'll never see 50 if his body doesn't get a break. He's not 25. Great shape or not, he's getting older. Even 25 year olds would feel those traumas. This doesn't even touch mental stress."

"Thank you."

Hogan headed to find Newkirk. He waited while Newkirk chatted on the phone. Seeing him, Newkirk grinned and finished his call. "Want a drink?" Hogan asked. "I have tea in my tent."

"Proper tea?" Newkirk asked.

"Come see."

"Won't your aide be curious?"

"I don't have an aide," Hogan snorted. "Most are useless."

"You 'ave got to be kidding!" They walked off towards the VIP tent. BJ and Hawkeye saw them pass. BJ looked at his lover.

"You ever think..." He gestured to where Hogan had gone.

"What? You're the one oogling him." Hawkeye's dark blue eyes flashed and BJ hid a smile. Being incredibly possessive and squirming whenever Hawkeye flirted with the nurses, it felt nice to have the shoe on the other foot. BJ smiled lazily.

"I'm not oogling him."

"You said he was attractive." In Hawkeye's annoyed tone, BJ heard jealousy, anger, and a touch of...fear?

BJ caved. "You know who I love, Hawk." BJ looked intently at Hawkeye, allowing his heart to show. Hawkeye gazed at him and then felt his cheeks heat. The younger man grinned. Hawkeye tried to breath.

"You're going to get us in trouble."

"Why? Are you going to ravage me in the compound?"

Hawkeye stared at BJ. BJ winked and Hawkeye rolled his eyes, tossing an arm over his lover's shoulders. "Come on," Hawkeye said. "Let's ask about this reporter."

"Three years," BJ murmured.

"If that were us, you'd have a full time job keeping me sane."

"If that were us, we'd both be insane."

They chatted to some of the other patients. "Newkirk?" a british corporal said. "He's hardly ever around us."

"I thought he was assigned to your unit," Hawkeye said.

"He is, kind of." The corporal smiled. "But he goes where he pleases. He's funny, tells great stories, and don't play poker with him. Most of our unit owes him money. He's clumsy, though. We try to watch him."

"Clumsy?"

"Trips a lot. Falls and always seems bruised. He's a good reporter, though."

Another soldier nodded. "He's always scribbling. Drives our commanding officer a bit daft with his continual roaming. But he's allowed. He goes where he wants and returns to the unit to eat. Nice enough chap."

Hawkeye saw a lean soldier pale. "Hawkins?" he asked. "You all right?" He walked over.

"He saved us," Hawkins whispered. "No one believes me. But he radioed us of the Chinese battlion. And then he came back and dragged our wounded to safety."

Hawkeye blinked at BJ. "Seems our war reporter is a bit unusual."

"Seems he's a hero. Come on, Hawk." The two doctors walked out and BJ suddenly smirked.

"What?"

"Three years locked up with you. I know what I'd do."

Hawkeye smiled suggestively. "What?" he purred.

BJ opened the supply tent door. "Let me show you."

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